


the plan is to fan this spark into a flame

by excusemeforfalling



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, it's the hunger games!au where octavia is the mockingjay but not really, so expect a lot of... ya know... death and violence, so this is a hunger games!au, you'll see why - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 10:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14187411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/excusemeforfalling/pseuds/excusemeforfalling
Summary: “Congratulations Octavia and Bellamy Blake, the winners of the 74th Hunger Games!” The voice announced in the arena, and on the TV-screen.Clarke remembered feeling confused, and the panic that had been there before was now replaced with dread. She felt angry. Angry and the siblings, and angry at past memories that was on their way to surface again; memories that she quickly hid again. How the hell was that even possible?! They were about to kill themselves with berries, and had ended up winning the entire game? Two winners? It didn’t make sense.Next to her, Roan chuckled. “I’ll be damned. I guess we’ll have to watch out for that girl.”No, Clarke thought, she’s not the one you have to look after.They all had to look after Bellamy Blake, because he and his small act of rebellion was the one who started it all.





	the plan is to fan this spark into a flame

**Author's Note:**

> "I may not live to see tomorrow, but I will gladly join the fight."
> 
> So this is the hunger games!au that nobody really wanted, but you're getting it anyway. I've had this in my drafts for over a year, and the first chapter wasn't even finished smh. But then I found it and though, 'why not' and now i regret everything. I can't promise you when I'm going to update this fic, but i'm currently on chapter two and going strong, so have faith!
> 
> Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

Clarke remembers watching the game with panic rising in her chest that year. Normally, she didn’t even bother to watch the game, too many painful memories that followed.  
  
But this year was different. This year, something has happened that had changed everything.  
  
Octavia Blake was only fourteen years old when her name was drawn from the bowl, she was one of the youngest that year. But that wasn’t the thing that had changed everything. No, not at all.  
  
Later when a boy’s name was drawn, another boy had volunteered to take his place. His name? Bellamy Blake, Octavia Blake’s big brother.  
  
Everything had changed then. Arkadia fell in love with the siblings, merely forgetting that eventually one of them had to die. Or both. Perhaps they would end up killing each other. Either way, that game would be different.  
  
Clarke remembers following the journey of the older Blake, because there was something about him. Something about the way he had volunteered, either a fool or a brave man. A man with the heart of a lion who would do anything for his sister.  
  
He would probably die for her as well.  
  
Bellamy got a perfect score when showing off his skill for the gamemakers. Octavia gets an eight. Clarke remembers when she was in their position she only got a nine. That bastard.  
  
When it was time for the interviews, Octavia was clearly the better of the pair. She took the entire Arkadia by storm with the sob story of losing her mother, and only having her brother left to look after her. She talked how unfair it was, how much she loved, and hated, her stupid brother for volunteering.  
  
Then it was Bellamy’s turn.  
  
He doesn’t say much. Clarke notices that he looks uncomfortable being in the spotlight. He seems nervous, and if Clarke’s not mistaken, she can almost see that he looks afraid. But then at the end of the interview, the interviewer brings Octavia up, and all Bellamy Blake says is, “My sister, my responsibility.”  
  
Clarke could feel the goose bumps on her entire body after that statement.  
  
If one thing was certain, Bellamy Blake would walk through hell for his sister.  
  
The game were nothing special, and if Clarke had to describe it, she would say that it was almost boring. A lot of people died of course, but there was nothing exciting about their deaths.  
  
That was until there was eight people left alive.  
  
Bellamy and Octavia has been inseparable since the very beginning, and a lot of people had tried to take advantage of that. But the pair had done what they did best: they hid. They hid and let the others kill each other. A great tactic until they were the only ones left and they had to turn on each other.  
  
Clarke knew from experience that it was the worst tactic there was.  
  
The other six remaining people had made an alliance to try to take out the siblings once and for all. Bellamy and Octavia saw it coming of course and came prepared.  
  
They ended up killing them all. Octavia jumping down from the tree tops with swords in her hands; Bellamy coming from the sides and finished her job. They were a lethal team.  
  
Then they were the only two alive.  
  
Clarke remembered watching, and holding her breath because she knew what was going to happen next.  
  
But oh, she didn’t.  
  
“Octavia…” Bellamy had said, with pain and regret in his eyes. What was he regretting?  
  
“I won’t do it,” Octavia had answered, seeming to read his mind.  
  
“If you don’t kill me, the arena will, and it won’t be pretty.”  
  
“I said no!”  
  
Bellamy had laughed, and the hugged his sister. “Together then.”  
  
He had taken a step back away from his sister, away from the hug, and pulled a bunch of berries from his pocket. He held them in his hand between them, like a question that hung in the air.  
  
“Together then,” Octavia echoed and she took a few berried from her brother.  
  
They looked at each other with tears in their eyes, and Clarke remembered feeling the panic rising in her chest. _No, no you idiots you can’t do that!_  
  
But just before the berries touched their lips, the sound of a canon shot through the air and the familiar melody playing, indicating that they had a winner.  
  
“Congratulations Octavia and Bellamy Blake, the winners of the 74 th Hunger Games!” The voice announced in the arena, and on the TV-screen.  
  
Clarke remembered feeling confused, and the panic that had been there before was now replaced with dread. She felt angry. Angry and the siblings, and angry at past memories that was on their way to surface again; memories that she quickly hid again. _How the hell was that even possible?! They were about to kill themselves with berries, and had ended up winning the entire game? Two winners?_ It didn’t make sense _._  
  
Next to her, Roan chuckled. “I’ll be damned. I guess we’ll have to watch out for that girl.”  
  
No, Clarke thought, _she’s not the one you have to look after_.  
  
They all had to look after Bellamy Blake, because he and his small act of rebellion was the one who started it all.

 

-‘’-  
  
Clarke Griffin was the victor of the 71th Hunger games. She was fifteen at the time and had won because she played the innocent little girl who was afraid of everything and everyone. Clarke Griffin was the girl who later had been the one to kill the most people in the history of the Games.  
  
Even her best friend.  
  
The year after the 74th Hunger Games had ended flew past in a blur. In a way everything was still the same: She went to the parties she had to, she socialized with the people she had to and she even made it to the tabloids a few times. A thing she didn’t intend to do. But oh well, anything to entertain the people who lived in the grand capitol Arkadia?  
  
She even forgot about the Blake siblings from time to time. She was too preoccupied to think that much of Bellamy Blake, but every time they arrived in a new district to pay tribute to the fallen comrades, they would show it on every screen in the capitol.  
  
Every time they showed the siblings, it was always Octavia who was talking. Bellamy was standing behind her, almost lurking in her shadow. But the few times the older sibling talked, Clarke could tell that he was the worst liar she had ever witnessed.  
  
The people bought the act of course. They all cried, shed tears like they always did, and talked about how brave he was for volunteering to be together with his sister. They all seemed to have forgotten about his rebellious act with the berries.  
  
Clarke was still waiting for the fallout from his act to come. It never did.  
  
So the year went on as usual, and all of the sudden it was time for the grand ball in celebration of the new victor. Or victors in this case.  
  
In a way, she was looking forward to the victor’s ball. She gets to meet all the past victors, some of the she had befriended over the past years.  
  
Raven Reyes was fierce girl from District 3 who had won by turning scrap into a bomb – her speciality – and ending up killing or severely hurting almost all the competitors. The bomb had also ended up hurting Reyes’ leg pretty bad, but with the help and the generosity of Arkadia, her leg was as good as new again. Raven Reyes was also one of Clarke’s closest friends.  
  
Raven had won the year after Clarke. During the time Raven had been in the Arena, Clarke had befriended Finn Collins. Finn was also from District 1 so it was easy being with him because he just _understood_ everything, and they had developed somewhat of a relationship. That was until Raven Reyes had won the Games, and returned to her boyfriend.  
  
Both of the girls had dumped him, and ended up as best friends instead. It was quite the scandal.  
  
The girls arrived together. Clarke with a long dress made out of gold and jewels, with her hair up in a hairdo resembling a crown. She hated her dressers, still playing at the ‘sweet and innocent little girl’, when in reality she was called a snake behind her back. Dress her up in green and black and she would feel more at ease with herself.  
  
Next to her, Raven Reyes walked in a dress red as blood with red lips to match. Her dark, long hair swinging loose on her back and she was a goddess among men.  
  
“Are you ready to meet Arkadia’s newest prized collection?” Raven asked, waking up Clarke from her thoughts.  
  
“Who?”  
  
Raven sighed. “You’re hopeless, you know that right? The infamous Blake siblings of course!”  
  
“I’ll deal with them when I have to. Tonight’s all about meeting the old victors for me.” Clarke gave Raven a light smile, and Raven nodded.  
  
They both understood that tonight was formally about the newest victors, but for them it was a chance to meet all the old friends.  
  
Monty Green, District 3, and Jasper Jordan, District 6, was standing next to the beverages, and it looked like they were spiking the already spiked drinks. Nobody was surprised about that fact.  
  
Nathan Miller was standing a few meters away from the boys, talking to John Murphy while keeping an eye at the troublemakers. Nathan Miller was a fellow victor form District 1 while Murphy was from District 2.  
  
While looking around Clarke noticed more and more past victors were arriving, but the newest winners had yet arrived yet. So Clarke put on her charming smile and started to mingle, talking to every important person she could.  
  
She think she saw Thelonious Jaha somewhere in the crowd and turned on her heel to walk the other way. After three, almost four years she still couldn’t look the man in the eye. Her pulse was racing and she was starting to sweat. She had to get away from there, and she had to get away fast.  
  
“In a hurry, princess?” She had walked right into another person in the hurry of getting some fresh air, and she was on her way to apologize until she looked up and saw who it was.  
  
Bellamy Blake.  
  
“In the matter of fact, yes, so if you excuse me I really have to-“  
  
“How rude, leaving even before the hosts of the party have arrived,” Bellamy Blake cut her off, making Clarke Griffin rolling her eyes.  
  
“I heard they were late. So if we are gonna be like that, they were the rude ones, not me.” Clarke gave him a challenging look, just to see how many of his buttons she could press.  
  
He held her gaze for a few seconds before finally smirking at her. “I guess I owe you a dance then.”  
  
“You don’t owe me anything.”  
  
“Come on Princess, just one dance?”  
  
Clarke reconsidered it. She was weighing the pros and the cons, and dancing with Bellamy Blake might give her an idea of who he really was. But at the same time, he might figure out something about her as well.  
  
“One dance, Blake. That is all.”  
  
They end up on the dance floor, slow dancing with each other. Clarke would never admit it out loud, but being close to him was nice. He had a broad chest, soft hands and he was a really good dancer. Of course she would never tell him that.  
  
She hadn’t noticed before, but being this up close to Bellamy made her see his freckles up close, and there were so many, sprawled out like constellations on his face. In another world she might even had called him beautiful.  
  
The song was almost over, and Clarke knew what that would mean. She had promised him one dance, but she hadn’t gotten any useful information out of him yet, so she needed to stall him.  
  
“You played a dangerous game, Mr Blake,” she whispered in his ear, leaning forward and touching his earlobe with her teeth, making him shudder.  
  
“Every game is a dangerous game,” he replied, as low as she did. Good, he knew the importance of the conversation.  
  
“True, but that was a bold move.” A pause. “With the berries.”  
  
“You would have done the same thing if you were in my shoes.”  
  
That made Clarke stop, taking Bellamy by surprise. The closeness they had share mare seconds ago was now gone, and Clarke felt anger rise up in her chest. “You know nothing of me, Blake,” she spat out, making the elder sibling smile a venomous smile to her.  
  
“I know more about you than you think,” he replied, and started to move again, dancing to a second song.  
  
“You don’t know what you have gotten yourself into,” Clarke said low against his chest, “one of you should had taken the berries, sparing the other.”  
  
“We chose each other, and if we were in trouble, something would’ve happened already,” now stopping and looking down at Clarke.  
  
There was something in his eyes that Clarke wasn’t expecting to see. Clarke Griffin saw fear in Bellamy Blake’s eyes.  
  
“And,” he continued, “If I had the same choice before me I would gladly do it again. And again.”  
  
“You tell yourself whatever you need to hear to sleep at night,” she replied sweetly, giving him one of her most sweetest smiles she had, the one she gave anybody she didn’t like. Bellamy squeezed her hand tightly, and it hurt a little too, but Clarke kept smiling at Bellamy, not indicating that it did in fact hurt.  
  
“What would you know,” he said darkly,” I guess you live in the fairy tale world that you always wanted? A princess, living in her castle. Let me guess, District 1? District 2?” He was stepping into dangerous territory now.  
  
Clarke was giving him a mean look, the sweet smile long gone. “Don’t go there, Blake.” She spit out his name, which was a mistake, because now he was the one smiling sweetly.  
  
“You have nothing to fear, because you can easily just run back to daddy dearest whenever it gets tough.”  
  
Clarke stopped mid-dance, and if they weren’t in a room full of people from Arkadia, she would have slapped him. Or killed him.  
  
She pulled him closer to her chest, surprising him.  
  
“Don’t you dare talk about my father, Bellamy Blake! Don’t you dare talk about stuff that you know nothing about,” she said coldly, not blinking even once while she continued. “I’ve won the games once, and I’ve killed for less. I don’t get called the serpent behind my back for nothing. Wrong me again and I’ll make you wish that you died in the games.”  
  
The man before her blinked slowly, and then blinked again. Faster this time.  
  
“Is that supposed to scare me?” He finally replied, in a whisper that only she could hear.  
  
“If I were you,” she replied instead of answering his question, “I’d learn how to lie better. Arkadia might have bought all of your lies that you told to the country, but not me. Not us fellow winners of the games. We all know how to lie, and you better learn fast or someone’s going to end up dead. Whether it’s you or your sister, that’s up to you.”  
  
“Don’t you dare bring my sister into this!” He growled, and if they hadn’t been arguing for the past ten minutes, she would have found the growl rather hot. But they had, so she didn’t.  
  
“Another tip for you, Mr Blake,” she said quietly, looking directly into his warm and brown eyes, “I’d also learn how to keep an eye on your sister. She ran off with Lincoln Woods a few minutes ago. I’d find her if I were you.” And with that, she snagged her hand away from his, turn on her heel and walked away from Bellamy Blake, leaving him to stand alone on the dancefloor.  
  
-‘’-  
  
Three days later it was announced that the old victors of the Hunger Games was going to be participating in the 75 th Hunger Games. One girl, and one boy from each district.  
  
Clarke Griffin had thrown her drink at the TV.  
  
They had won. They had killed to get where they are. They had killed to survive. And now some of them had to kill again. Some of her friends were going to die, and there was nothing she could do about it.  
  
Yet, all in her anger, all she could think about was the Blake siblings and how they were the only two victors left from District 12.  
  
All she could think about how they just had won, and now they were going back in the Games again.  
  
How was the world that they lived in any fair?  
  
-‘’-  
  
Four days later Lincoln Woods was found dead in his apartment.  
  
It had been Octavia Blake who had found him.  
  
-‘’-  
  
The name drawing was a few days after that.  
  
Clarke barely remembers half of it, too fuelled with anger and hate towards Arkadia. Too upset over Lincoln’s death. She could feel the anger and betrayal with the other victors. It was an unspoken deal that if you had won the Game, then you would live the rest of your life in peace. If you didn’t upset any of the higher ups in the capitol, of course.  
  
You just had to look at the prime example of Clarke Griffin on what happened if you angered the capitol. Everybody knew of it, and nobody spoke of it.  
  
Then District 12 was the first district to get their competitors drawn, and when their names got drawn the entire country cried alongside the siblings.  
  
Bellamy Blake must have gotten better at lying, because even Clarke believed his tears.   
  
Each new day was a new district. Twelve days of hell. Some of the names were familiar, and some of the names were friends and Clarke’s heart broke with each day. Some of the districts only had one victor of each gender. For example, Raven Reyes was the only female victor of District 3, and the Blake siblings were the only victors of District 12.  
  
How was the world that they lived in any fair?  
  
On the twelfth day it was time for District 1 to draw the names.  
  
Of course it was Clarke Griffin’s name that got pulled out of the gigantic bowl of names. She had already seen it coming. Strangely Nathan Miller’s name was also drawn.  
  
Together they stood up on the altar, the two serpents, holding hands and being angry at the world.   
  
The people in the districts were rioting. The people in Arkadia were upset. But that didn’t stop the higher ups from continuing with the game. No, it went on like it always did.  
  
All of the 24 contestants had a few day together in the training room, practicing on what they were good at, practicing on what they weren’t good at, and of course making new friends.  
  
“Who do you think we should team up with?” Miller asked Clarke after two hours of an intense sparring match between the two of them on their first day.  
  
“Miller,” Clarke said, warning him about continuing on his thoughts, but he interrupted her before she could continue.  
  
“Come on Clarke, don’t be like this.”  
  
“You know exactly what I think about this.” She warned him. “Back off.”  
  
“I won’t, and I know why you don’t want to team up with anybody, but we have to be smart about this.”  
  
Clarke sighed. She knew that he had a point.  
  
“Raven,” she said after a few minutes. “Perhaps Monty as well.”  
  
“If we take Monty, he’s going to want to have Jasper with him.”  
  
“And that would slow us down, I know,” Clarke said with an emotionless smile plastered on her lips. As soon as Jasper Jordan had won the games, he had begun to drink heavily, and went into a drunken state pretty much every minute of each day and night. “But I don’t think we’ll have a choice. Monty seems like one of the few good people to team up with, and if we’ll get Jasper too we have to take him with us.”  
  
“He won’t last that long anyway so-“  
  
“Nathan!” Clarke said, slapping him on his arm. “Be nice!”  
  
“You know I’m right,” Miller mumbled while rubbing the spot on his arm where Clarke had hit him.  
  
“Who do you want on our team then?” Clarke asked to change the subject.  
  
“You’re not going to like it.”  
  
“Miller I swear to God if you say you want Bellamy-“  
  
“I want Bellamy Blake.”  
  
“You can’t be serious,” Clarke said in disbelief.  
  
“Be smart, Clarke. Think about it, he’s smart, he’s athletic built and he’ll do anything to protect his sister. We can use that against him if we have to.”  
  
“I won’t be on the same team as him even if my own life depends on it!” She whispered. “He’s rude, arrogant and he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He just won last year, and he has no idea what’s coming. I won’t do it.” And with that, she left Miller at the sparring station and moved on to practice with some weapons.  
  
On her way over she saw Raven trying out archery, while Monty was trying to start a fire. Murphy and Lexa from District 2 was sparring with each other with swords and Clarke couldn’t help but to roll her eyes. They were just showing off, like always. Everybody knew that they couldn’t stand each other, but they were the only two on the same level when it came to handle a sword.  
  
They were both lethal with it, and Clarke had to keep an eye on them both if she wanted to outlive them in the game.  
  
Clarke picked up a spear and tossed it between her hands, trying to get used to the weight of it. It felt clumsy in her hands, too big. Clarke was used to smaller knives, a fact that everybody who had watched the game that she won knew.  
  
She began to swirl it, moving from one hand to another. Once she thought she had the movement controlled, she began to move with it: ducking, jumping, running.  
  
It was going great until a voice behind her startled her.  
  
“Princess.”  
  
She spun around, still with the spear in her hand, now pointing it at Bellamy Blake’s throat. The man before her put up his hands in surrender, and while he had a smirk on his lips, she could see in his eyes that he was afraid as well.  
  
Good.  
  
“Do you have a death wish?” She asked, panting, tired from her own training. She still didn’t put the spear down though.  
  
“I just came here to talk.” A pause. “And apologize.”  
  
Clarke gave him a suspicious look, but took down the spear, still panting. “I’m listening.”  
  
It seemed that her gesture made the man before her nervous.  
  
Perfect.  
  
“I shouldn’t have talked about your father that way,” he paused, “I didn’t know.”  
  
Clarke studied him for a few seconds before answering. He seemed genuinely honest, and she believed that he was telling the truth.  
  
“Didn’t know what, exactly?” She asked.  
  
He paused. “The way he passed.”  
  
“Oh you mean _that_ ,” Clarke said with a sugary sweet smile on her lips, “the way he _passed_.” She took a step towards him. “You mean the way he was brutally _murdered_?” The smile on her lips was all gone now.  
  
Blake stood before her, stunned, and Clarke couldn’t hold it back anymore. She didn’t want to.  
  
“I don’t know how you possibly could have missed it, but after I killed all those people in the games, it was only me and Wells left. I had the chance to take his life, but I couldn’t take the life of my best friend.” She took a step closer. “It was a lot like you with your sister, but you both got out alive. Neither of us did.”  
  
Bellamy opened his mouth, but Clarke cut him off before he could talk.  
  
“I had to watch my best friend since birth slit his own throat before me, I got all of his blood on my face and I held his dead body in my arms, crying, as they announced me as the winner. My punishment for not killing him? My dad mysteriously disappeared and was found dead a few weeks later, so unrecognizable that they had to use his dental records to identify him.”  
  
Bellamy said nothing. She saw how he kept swallowing, opening his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. She was a patient woman though, she was sure she could out-wait him.  
  
She still held his gaze, unable to look away from his brown eyes. Her chest was still rising and falling, and she was almost out of breath. She noticed he was out of breath as well, and for a mare second she wondered why.  
  
“I’m sorry,” he whispered and took Clarke by surprise. She was taken back by the sincerity in his words, how soft and how small he suddenly sounded. He sounded like a kid, and even though it had been Clarke who had yelled at him and she was the one who had tears in her eyes, she felt the urge to hug him and tell him that everything was going to be okay.  
  
She took a few steps back, feeling that they were too close, too fast, and she couldn’t handle it. Bellamy reached out a hand towards her, but she jerked back and dropped the spear.  
  
“Apology accepted. Now,“ she turned away, “don’t talk to me ever again.”  
  
She walked towards the exit in a hurry, almost running. She had to get out of there. Clarke was heading toward dangerous territory, especially if she started to hang around Bellamy Blake.  
  
Clarke knew that Bellamy Blake probably was the most dangerous person of them all, more dangerous than herself and even his own sister. Not because of his brute strength, or because he was smart. No, he was dangerous because he had heart.  
  
And he was beginning to affect Clarke.  
  
“Don’t even think about it,” she said when she hurried past a smirking Miller, and out of the doors.  
  
The next few days she did everything she could to avoid Bellamy. Instead, she tried to learn stuff that she didn’t know before. She kept glancing around, eying the other competitors, trying to learn things that she didn’t already know.  
  
But it was pointless. Most of them had been Clarke’s friends for a long time, and she loved them. How was she supposed to kill her friends? She hadn’t been capable of it before, so what was different this time? But she knew what was different because this time she was fighting for a cause, something bigger that one single life.  
  
This time Clarke was fighting to take down Arkadia once and for all.  
  
Three days had passed since her interaction with Bellamy, and she just realized she hadn’t seen his sister even once at the training sessions. It was the last day as well, and when she looked around, she couldn’t find Bellamy either.  
  
She kept going though, she kept sparring with Miller and playing mind games with Raven. Monty taught her how to make a kick ass fire, and Lexa even shower her a few things on how to handle a sword.  
  
But there was no Blake, and it kept bugging her.  
  
That was until there was about an hour left, and everybody was giving their all, when Bellamy Blake walked in through the doors. But there was something off about him.  
  
He kept his head down, and he walked funny, almost like he was limping. Clarke stopped what she was doing, and Miller got in a few good hits on her, making her lose focus on Bellamy as she fell down on the mat below her.  
  
Miller swore and sat down next to her. “Are you okay?”  
  
Clarke, stroking her sore jaw, laughed a maniac’s laugh and nodded. “I’m fine Miller, I’m fine. I’m gonna take a break, you should do the same.” Nobody was okay.  
  
He nodded and left her alone.  
  
Clarke, too tired to really move, sat down on the mat, looking after the man who had caught her attention. It took a while to find him, because he was standing in a corner, looking down on his own two feet. And yet she got the feeling that he was well aware of what was going on in the room.  
  
He made the mistake by looking up for a half a second, meeting her eyes. She inhaled sharply at the sight of his face.  
  
Bellamy’s face was badly bruised, with small cuts all over it and one big across his cheek. Without realizing it herself she stood up and walked towards him.  
  
He had his face down towards the ground again, but his jaw was clenched and his body posture went stiff. He knew she was there.  
  
“Who did this to you?” Clarke spat out, raising her hand to touch his face. She quickly realized what she was about to do and she put down her arm again.  
  
“You don’t have to act like you care now, princess,” he said, “It doesn’t suit you.”  
  
“Oh shut up, Bellamy,” she said and rolled her eyes. “I just want to know who got the best of me and hit you before I did.”  
  
His eyes darkened while he clenched his jaw and Clarke immediately knew who was responsible.  
  
Clarke opened her mouth and was about to say something when she spun around when something in the corner of her eye caught her attention.  
  
Octavia Blake walked into the training room and everybody stopped in their tracks. This was the first time anybody had seen her since Lincoln Woods had died.  
  
Her eyes were puffy and red, probably from crying. But that didn’t stop her from walking up to the weapons, picking up a sword and started to swing it like her life depended on it.  
  
She turned around to face Bellamy again, to get information out of him. But she couldn’t question him when he looked like that.  
  
His eyed followed his sister, and he looked like he was going to break. Clarke followed his eyes, studying the younger sibling.  
  
Octavia was all anger and rage, and suddenly everything made sense.  
  
Clarke turned to watch Bellamy again, but he was already looking at Clarke. He knew that she knew.  
  
“You were right,” he said in defeat. “Someone ended up dead. But it wasn’t me or my sister.”  
  
Clarke opened her mouth, and then closed it again. Anger flared up and all Clarke saw was red.  
  
The capitol had done the same thing to the Blake siblings that they had done to her and her father. By killing Lincoln, the Capitol made Octavia hate her brother. And by doing so it was essentially harder for the sibling to sell their act if one of them hated the other person.  
  
“I’m going to kill them,” Clarke whispered and this time she took him by surprise.  
  
“I swear to God, if you lay a finger on Octavia I’m gonna-“  
  
“Relax, hotshot. I won’t touch your sister, but that doesn’t mean she’s not going to pay for what she did to you.”  
  
“I still don’t get it?” Bellamy looked confused, but his facial expression made his injuries hurt so he flinched. Clarke felt sorry for him.  
  
“You need to learn to look at the bigger picture, Bellamy. You need to learn who the real enemy is. I may despise you and what you stand for, but believe it or not we’re on the same side. And I protect those who are on my side.”  
  
With that, Clarke turned around and walked up to Nathan Miller, who had been watching the whole time.  
  
“You get what you want, The Blakes are with us. One word out of that’s mug mouth of yours and I will know you so hard on your head that you won’t remember who you are.”  
  
Clarke felt done in the training room, mostly because she couldn’t stand to look at the siblings any longer. And when she walked out of the room, she could hear Miller laughing behind her.  
  
She was gonna punch him in his pretty face.  
  
-‘’-  
  
The day after the incident with Bellamy and Octavia it was time for everybody to perform in front of a few judges to see their final score.  
  
Clarke, being the first one out, drew a picture of Wells on the floor. While she was doing so, she was looking up at Thelonious Jaha while doing so, watching the horror in his eyes.  
  
Clarke Griffin was done feeling sad and afraid.  
  
Clarke Griffin was angry and it was time for the Capitol to finally see who she was.  
  
After she was done, she stood up with paint splattered all over her clothes, face and hands. She took one final look at the people who was standing above her and she smiled her sweetest smile she could while not breaking eye contact.  
  
After that she walked out the other door and feeling like nothing could stop her. And she knew that the gamemakers would take her seriously.  
  
She wasn’t a scared little girl anymore.  
  
She was the spark that would set the Capitol on fire.  
  
-‘’-  
  
Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake were the only two people how got the highest score.  
  
There were a lot of people who had gotten a 9 and an 8, like Miller and Lexa.  
  
Octavia Blake was the person who had gotten the lowest point of a solid 2. Even Jasper Jordan had gotten a score higher than that.  
  
Something was going on, and now it was too late to stop it.  
  
-‘’-  
  
The interviews with all of the contestants went by with a blur. Clarke could hardly remember any of it.  
  
She played the same sweet girl that she always did, but beneath the façade, she was screaming.  
  
She could see it in the face of everybody else as well. Everybody was pissed, but there was nothing they could do.  


So they all put up a show for the Capitol while the rest of Arkadia was rioting.  
  
But there was nothing they could do.  
  
Tomorrow all of the 24 contestants were sent out to play one last game and all except one were going to die.  
  
-‘’-  
  
“Any last words before the game begins?” Clarke asked Roan later that night.  
  
She, Roan and Miller were sitting out on the roof on the building that belonged to District 1. They had been drinking all night, and not saying a single word to each other.  
  
“Only one: don’t die.”  
  
Clarke snorted, and she could see Miller rolling his eyes.  
  
“You know that’s not possible.” She said while taking another swig of the bottle containing alcohol.  
  
“Seriously,” Miller said after a while, “any last advice?”  
  
Roan sighed and stood up, he knew (they all knew), that there wasn’t much left to say. They all knew that neither of them were going to make it.  
  
“Take out as many as you can before you go. You’re no longer friends out on the arena, they are all your enemies. Trust no one. Not even each other. Sleep tight.” And with that, he walked back inside, leaving the two of them alone.  
  
“I’m so glad he’s helping us,” Miller said with a snarky tone, and Clarke couldn’t help but to laugh.  
  
“Either way he is right, we’re not walking out of this alive. Not the both of us.”  
  
“We still have a fighting chance,” Clarke said, all humour now gone. “Our group is not half bad. If we’re still sticking to the same people?”  
  
Miller nodded. “Monty, Jasper, Raven and the siblings. Anybody else?”  
  
“We can’t trust either Murphy or Lexa, they would have been great allies. And the rest? Can we even trust them?”  
  
Miller sighed. “Not likely. Perhaps a handful of them, but I highly doubt we can trust them when it really matters. I wouldn’t trust them with my life.”  
  
Clarke smiled. “Same here.”  
  
“This is it, huh?”  
  
“This is it. One more shot for good luck?”  
  
“Luck,” Miller snorted. “We’re gonna need more than that.”  
  
Clarke raised the bottle, and Miller did the same. “To taking as many as we can down with us.”  
  
“Amen to that,” Miller said and they both chugged what was left in their bottle like there was no tomorrow.  
  
-‘’-  
  
Clarke woke up with a hungover, but it was worth it.  
  
She stayed in bed as long as she could until Maya came to her room to get her dressed and presentable for the game.  
  
Maya wasn’t the one to usually talk, but she was extra quiet that day.  
  
She braided her hair, and put some mascara on Clarke’s lashes. Anything to make her look less dead.  
  
“It’s not fair,” Maya finally whispered around an hour.  
  
Clarke had finally got dressed in what felt and looked like a full body wet suit. Wherever she was going, it didn’t seem like a good place if she needed clothes like that.  
  
“Nothing about this is fair, Maya. It never has been.” Clarke said, feeling herself giving up. She was too tired for this. Too tired for all of the emotions.  
  
She needed to shut it all off if she was going to survive the game, and she couldn’t have Maya getting all sentimental on her.  
  
“I know but,” she whispered, “It’s not fair.”  
  
“You know what Maya, why don’t you come with me, and say goodbye right before I go off to wherever I’m going?” Clarke said with a lazy smile.  
  
“Are you sure?” Maya asked, chocked.  
  
“Sure, I might need some final touches on my hair. I have to look my best for today.” Clarke said, feeling sad as she saw how Maya lit up with joy.  
  
They left a few minutes after that, in a car with toned windows to Clarke couldn’t see where they were taking her. When they stopped, they put a blindfold to cover her eyes as they stepped into what Clarke presumed to be an aircraft.  
  
The entire flight there Maya talked and talked. Clarke enjoyed it, as she always did. She liked Maya, sure she could be a little too much sometimes, but she meant well.  
  
Maya was only one year younger than Clarke, and she had been the one who got her all glammed up before her first game. It was strange, sending such a young person to do it, but Maya had been stubborn, she wanted to be the one to take care of Clarke.  
  
And she had done a wonderful job doing so.  
  
After what seemed like forever, the aircraft finally landed, and Clarke was taken under ground, and her blindfold was taken off.  
  
It was now only herself and Maya in the room.  
  
“Stand on that platform behind you, and it will take you up on the arena shortly,” a mechanical voice said and Clarke did what she was told.  
  
Clarke turned to face Maya, who was now smiling. Clarke had half expected her to cry.  
  
“It’s been an honour, Clarke Griffin,” Sha said, taking Clarke’s hand.  
  
Clarke squeezed her hand, and returned her smile with tears in her eyes. “After this everything is going to change, you know that right?”  
  
Maya nodded. “None of us are innocent, Clarke.”  
  
The let go of each other, and a glass wall came up between them. Clarke waiter and waiter for her to be lifted up to the arena, but nothing happened.  
  
Clarke was about to ask when a door opened up behind Maya and three guards came in with guns in their hands.  
  
Clarke’s heart dropped and she began to scream. Scram at Maya to get away. Scream at the guards to make them go away, because she knew what was going to happen.  
  
She knew Maya couldn’t hear her, because for a second all she did was looking at Clarke with a confused look on her face, before realization hit her and she gave Clarke a sad smile before closing her eyes.  
  
Clarke kept on screaming, but nobody could hear her. Tears streamed down her face as she saw one of the guards approaching Maya, and hitting the back of her head with one of the guns.  
  
Maya fell to the grounds, screaming. Why could Clarke hear her, when Maya couldn’t hear Clarke?  
  
The guards kicked and kicked on Mayas body and she continued to scream, until she didn’t any longer. Clarke kept banging on the glass between them, but they did nothing, they just kept kicking her small body.  
  
Suddenly Clarke was being lifted up on the platform, but she couldn’t leave Maya. She had to save her.  
  
But all of a sudden it was too bright, and it smelled like water and sand. Clarke stood up, lifting her hand to cover her eyes from the sun.  
  
“I will make you all pay for this!” She screamed into nothingness, not caring who heard and who didn’t.  
  
She looked around, wiping away her tears from her eyes, trying to locate Miller. It was all too much to take in, and her heart was beating too fast. She had to calm down, she couldn’t break down in the middle of the game. She had no time for this.  
  
But images of Maya’s face as she was getting kicked to death was painted on her eyes and it was all she could see.  
  
She had to focus, she had to calculate. She had to prepare herself.  
  
Clarke took many deep breaths, and blinked more than she ever had done in her life, trying to calm herself down.  
  
She looked around and saw that she was standing on a platform, with 23 similar platforms around her where the other contestants stood, one player on one platform.  
  
She couldn’t see Miller, or anybody else on her team close to her and it started to freak her out.  
  
But before she could process it any further, a voice rang out into the arena:  
  
“Welcome to the 75th annual Hunger Games! Make the odds ever be in your favour! Let the games begin!”  
  
And then, total and utter chaos broke loose.  



End file.
